


Frequency of Love

by queenhomeslice



Series: I Wanna Ride My Chocoboy All Day: Prompto/Reader Stories [20]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Lovesick Prompto Argentum, Mutual Pining, Radio Host Prompto Argentum, college radio stations, fat reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Prompto is a weekly DJ with his own show on WKIU, Insomnia University's radio station--and he's certain that it's the perfect cover for his longtime crush on his best friend.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Reader
Series: I Wanna Ride My Chocoboy All Day: Prompto/Reader Stories [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554340
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41





	Frequency of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.  
> —————  
> Update 02/11: NOW WITH ART BY THE INCREDIBLE CYANIDECHERUB! 
> 
> https://thevirtualcanvas.tumblr.com/post/190769458966/for-incinc-and-her-fic-frequency-of-love-over-on

“Hey Julian!” Prompto greets the DJ once the mic is muted, and the other boy slips the headphones from his ears, the start of a thirty-minute Top Ten Hits playlist echoing in the small studio. Prompto slings his yellow chocobo-shaped backpack in the corner and stretches, high-fiving his friend as he rises from the padded office chair. 

“All yours, Loverboy.” 

“Ffffffff, okay,” Prompto laughs, but blushes anyway. He shrugs the guitar case from his shoulder and stands it on the floor, letting it lean against the soundboard. He peers at the laptop that’s hooked up with all their music playlists. “Did you look up that indie band I told you about? Luna and the Glaives?” 

Julian nods, green eyes sparkling even in the low light of the campus radio station headquarters. “I did man, yeah! Their EP is gonna be in our rotation starting tomorrow. I love them! Their cover of ‘Stand by Me’ makes me cry so hard.” 

“Ugh, tell me about it,” Prompto sighs as he plops in the chair, tugging the headphones around his neck. “I might play it tonight, who knows.” He nods in the direction of his acoustic guitar. “That is, if my art history homework doesn’t drown me first.” Prompto looks at his bulging backpack and winces. “I hope I get the chance to do some work in between requests tonight.” 

Julian laughs and claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry buddy. Tomorrow’s Friday. And I don’t think we’re popular enough to have a solid five hours’ worth of student requests. So far there are only ten in your inbox.” 

Prompto minimizes the music program and pulls up the radio station’s email, clicking on the folder that’s been assigned to him and his late-night radio segment, and he smiles. “Well, hey, ten’s a lot for me, anyway. That’s two more than last Thursday.” 

“Don’t worry buddy. You’ll be a famous DJ one day.” 

“Nah,” says Prompto as he waves his hand. “I think I’m gonna have better luck as a photographer. This is just a hobby.” 

“You never know. Intern at a real radio station while building up your photog business on the side. Double the hustle!” 

“Psh, are you saying we’re not a real radio station?” Prompto grins, pulling back up the music on the laptop. 

“Yeah, ‘cause _real_ radio stations broadcast the cafeteria menu and residence hall programming,” Julian teases back. He pauses, then, “Is tonight gonna be the night when you finally confess your love on-air?” 

Prompto rolls his eyes, even as a flush rises to his pretty freckled cheeks. “I see a career in comedy in your future,” he mutters. 

“Dude, seriously. Are you just gonna go your whole college career pining away after your best friend from _high school_?” 

Prompto bites his lip and sighs. “Y’see, the thing is, if I never tell her, then I never have to hear her reject me. We have the perfect friendship, and I don’t wanna fuck it up.” 

The other boy sighs and shakes his head. “Your loss, man. Think of everything that could go right. Speaking of...I have a date myself in about forty-five minutes. See ya tomorrow!” Julian waves goodbye as he slides through the open door and locks it shut behind him. 

“Y-yeah, see ya!” Prompto says softly to the empty room. He sighs heavily and moves to unzip the soft guitar case, tuning it while waiting out Julian’s pop playlist. 

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Prompto croons into the radio microphone. “It’s your favorite time of the night with the one and only, Prompto Argentum. Welcome back to another segment of Lovely Soft, a nonstop five hours of totally romantic tunes, breakup bangers, pitiful pining playlists, and...the best part...your lovely requests, comments, and questions!” Prompto smiles to himself. Here, behind the microphone, he can play a love song explicitly for her, and she won’t have to know. He can broadcast his love across the radio waves of Insomnia University, and still keep his massive crush a total secret. It’s the best arrangement he could’ve ever hoped for. And the communications department loves him for it—since he started his show spring semester of last year, they’d told him that the station’s ratings went up over 500%, and that listening increased from a few hundred to well over half the student body population. Prompto’s only a sophomore, but even he can admit that it’s pretty impressive. 

He clears his throat and strums his guitar. “I wanna open the show with something a little special,” he says to the microphone. “I don’t know how many of you know Luna and the Glaives, but they’re bound to be the biggest alt-indie band of this year. They’re already a smash hit in Tenebrae, and I know Lucis is gonna give them the same fame. I can feel it in my bones. So I wanna open the show with a song that they covered on their self-titled EP, which is totally out now—hard copy and on Spotify—a little song called ‘Stand by Me.’” Prompto clears his throat again and takes a swig of water, then launches into the song. 

He feels the emotion of the lyrics as he sings, pretending that he’s calling his best friend _darling;_ squeezes his eyes shut as he promises not to be afraid if she would be at his side; begging her to stand by him whenever she’s in trouble...belts out about reckless love even if the sky falls, even if the mountains were to crumble into the sea. Prompto can’t help the tears that come as he sings his heart out over the radio, to one girl and one girl only, silently begging the gods to always keep her in his life. 

The song ends and Prompto strums a few final notes, then sets the guitar on the floor. He drinks some water and delves right into the emails. “Ugh, that song always breaks my heart into a million pieces—so if you find organ tissue around campus tomorrow, you know who it belongs to! Catch me in the cafeteria between classes to return my shattered heart,” he laughs quietly. “All right, we have _ten_ emails tonight, which is two more than this time last week—I'm gonna need you guys to stop, I’m not sure if I can read all of these.” Prompto pauses. “Please don’t actually stop, I love emails, so if you want to keep me on the air, give me stuff to fill my time slot. Else I’m gonna have to resort to talking about photography or chocobos, and then I’d have to change the name of the segment, and then the comm department might fire me, so...” Prompto shrugs. “And we don’t want that! So anyway,” he rambles. “Our first email is from...Prince Noctis! Hey buddy, thanks for writing in!” Prompto’s whole body goes warm. “Our resident royal writes, ‘Hey Prompto, when are you going to finally confess your undying love to your crush?’ Listen, dude, if you’re trying to win a bet with Gladio or Ignis, I ain’t gonna do it,” Prompto laughs—but it’s hollow. “Prompto Argentum is single and ready to mingle! I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about. Nice try! Okay, one more email and then we’ll play this week’s top five breakup songs as voted by you on our Mooglebook page! Second email is from Aranea Highwind—hey ‘Nea, thanks for writing in! And congrats on the girl’s soccer victory the other day! That’s right folks, Aranea and the Lady Behemoths are going to the semi-finals! I _knew_ stealing you from the Niflheim Giants was a good move for our school! Aranea writes, ‘Hey Loverboy, your secret crush isn’t so secret. When are you gonna tell her already?’” Prompto gulps hard. His friends are _really_ testing him tonight. “Loyal listeners, it seems that my, quote-unquote _friends_ are really out to get me tonight.” He rolls his eyes and archives the email. “Nice try, Aranea. I think I hear a shiny soccer ball calling your name right about now, yeah?” He coughs nervously. “So, are you going through a bad breakup? Did he cheat? Was she too clingy? Were they not the person you thought they were? If you need a musical outlet, you’ve come to the right place. These five songs were voted on by you, our listeners and patrons. And don’t forget—WKIU is supported by the Insomnia U Communications Department, Kenny Crow’s Crow’s Nest, American Express, Cup Noodle, Coleman, and Wiz Chocobo Post! Thank you to our sponsors—and here is the music!” Prompto pushes _mute_ on the mic and starts the playlist, the angry-sad lyrics providing a temporary distraction for him. What the hell were his friends trying to do by embarrassing him on his own radio show? He groans and puts his face in his hands. 

Two and a half hours into his show, and Prompto’s about halfway finished with his art history homework. He’s still got one more email to read, and he’s almost finished all the requests he could find on the school’s social media—and the ones that he writes down in a notebook, since people randomly come up to him to dedicate sappy songs to their significant other. He’d gotten over fifty today alone. The last ballad ends, an old classic that everyone still loves—and then, surprisingly, the phone line lights up green. Prompto clicks back on the mic. 

“That was the King himself with ‘I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You.’ So, right now, as we speak, lovely listeners, my _radio phone is ringing_. I know, I know! I thought it was a myth, too! But it’s real! Let’s see who’s desperate to talk to little ol’ me at nine o’clock on a Thursday,” he laughs. He switches the call over to the live stream. “ Gooooood evening,” he sings. “This is Lovely Soft on WKIU, Insomnia U’s own radio station. I’m Prompto! What can I do ya for this evening?” Prompto holds his breath in anticipation—no one’s called into his show live in a long, _long_ time. 

“Hey, uh—hey, Prom.” 

Prompto freezes—he can literally hear time, and his breath, stop simultaneously. Even with the way his friends had been teasing him over email tonight, he never expected _her_ to _call_ in to his program. Prompto tries to breathe as he chokes out his standard call greeting. “Hi there, listener. May I ask what your name is?” 

____________ gulps. “It’s uh, it’s me, Prom. _____________.” 

“___________, thank you so much for calling into my show! Did you have a request? Or, need some advice? Or, maybe a new band that I can be on the lookout for?” Prompto bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. He always rambles when he’s nervous. He hopes the desperation in his voice doesn’t tank the station ratings. 

“No, actually, I, uh. Wanted to say...I liked your song, earlier. The one you sang.” 

Prompto exhales slowly and tries not to sweat all over the soundboard. “Hey, thanks so much,” he says softly. “Glad to know someone out there thinks I sound decent.” He pauses. “Thank you so much for calling in, ___________!” Prompto reaches for the phone line switch. 

“Wait!” 

He pauses. “Something to add, ___________?” he breathes. 

“I...I can’t...Prompto. I...I can’t take it anymore.” 

“What’s wrong?” Prompto’s stomach drops. He hates it when his friends are upset—especially her. 

“I can’t...I can’t keep pretending that I don’t love you with every fiber of my being,” she says, words spilling out of her—because she’s been in agony for five years and if she doesn’t do this now, she never will. “I can’t keep pretending that every time I look at your crazy beautiful face, I don’t want to kiss you and never stop. I can’t keep hearing every love song and thinking about you. I know this is stupid, and maybe you hate me for doing this live and over the phone, but I...I’ve had a crush on you since high school, Prompto, and I love you so much that it _hurts_.” 

The other end goes silent, heavy breathing resounding loudly over the station waves. 

“Are you...am I dreaming right now?” Prompto says quietly, propping his elbow up on the soundboard and leaning into his hand. “Are you...you’re serious?” 

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.” 

Prompto’s cell phone suddenly starts going _crazy_ in his pocket—but he ignores it. The most important person on the planet is on the phone. 

“And I know you said—you didn’t have a crush on anyone, even though your friends were teasing you, but I...this took a lot of courage, and I just thought...maybe doing it over the phone, on your show...since it’s about love songs and all that...it would kinda be the right thing to do.” She pauses, sniffs back her tears. “I’m sorry if I...crossed a line, or...” 

“Nah,” says Prompto, heart suddenly lighter than air. “Guess it’s only right to say that I have a crush back.” 

“You...you do?” 

“Yeah babe,” he laughs, nickname tumbling out of his mouth before he realizes it. “I, uh. Since high school for me, too.” 

“Oh, my gods. Are you like...you’re not doing this for ratings, are you?” 

“Definitely not,” says Prompto, as his phone _keeps_ vibrating in his pocket. “Uh, Noct, and the others. They were right. In fact, I...I started this show so that I could. Um. So that I could play love songs. And sing. To you. Without you knowing.” 

There’s a lot of crying on the other end, now—and Prompto’s crying too, but his face hurts from smiling so much. 

“In fact,” Prompto continues softly, “The show is named after you, too. ‘Cause that’s what I think you are. Lovely, and soft.” 

When midnight hits, and after Prompto shuts down the radio station for the evening, he walks out of the communications building into the arms of his new girlfriend. It’s their first kiss, but it’s loving and perfect and new and sweet and good. They’re crying into each other’s arms, and Prompto molds his lean body to her soft, chubby one like it’s the puzzle piece he’s always been missing. 

“I love you,” Prompto says in-between kisses all over her face—her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. He doesn’t even care that her face is wet with emotional tears. 

“I—fuck, Prom, I love you so much, I—” ______________ continues to half sob, even when he’s gone back to kissing her—and she thinks she’s gotten the hang of the rhythm, now. “Why did you—we—wait so long, I--” 

“I’m big dumb,” laughs Prompto as he pulls away and stares at her, illuminated by the harsh lamplight hovering over the campus sidewalk. “I didn’t wanna...ruin our friendship. I couldn’t bear the thought of you rejecting me, or not being around you, so I...” He bites his lip and sighs. “I’m really sorry.” 

“Don’t be, please. I’m just...I’m so happy you feel the same way...I never thought...that someone like me...” ___________ looks down and away. “Girls like me don’t usually get the guy, y’know.” 

“Hey,” says Prompto, tilting her chin up with his fingers. “Girls like you are usually at the top of the tree, and most guys are too lazy to get a ladder.” 

“Well,” she says, smiling shyly. “Thanks for climbing.” 

“A worthy effort,” Prompto laughs as he kisses her again. “Hey, I know it’s late, but—” 

“I don’t have class till ten,” she says. “Kenny Crow’s?” 

“What other place is open all night and within walking distance?” Prompto shoulders his backpack and guitar and grabs her hand. With his other hand he digs out his phone, which is ablaze with messages from all of his friends about the events on the radio show. 

“Maybe,” she says as they cross the street to the row of off-campus apartments and cheap dive bars. “Maybe what I did will help someone else confess to their crush.” 

“The radio waves are loud and rich with our love,” says Prompto softly. He squeezes her hand, and _____________ squeezes back. 

“Our stations are tuned in to the same frequency,” she nods. 

“Oh, gods,” laughs Prompto. “Are we gonna spend this whole date trying to outdo each other on radio-themed puns?” 

“Sorry honey, you can’t _tune_ me out.” 

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” Prompto sighs fondly as he holds the diner door open and ushers his love inside. 

**Author's Note:**

> This, uh. Was supposed to be a drabble. But y'all bitches know by now I pretty much fail at writing short things most of the time. 
> 
> (Also I know nothing about radio stations so please take everything with a grain of salt and don't vilify me too much in the comments, plzkthxbai)


End file.
